Inspired
by ItTicklesLikeCrazy
Summary: Right now, this is just a collection and mish-mash of strange ideas given and taken and come up with for SPN/DP that I wanted to go on, but not in full story mode. To anyone who wishes to go on and read it, enjoy. To those who don't, you don't have to enjoy. Latest, Sam never thought that his old friendship would ever make a difference while hunting. He was wrong. As always, ENJOY!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, hey, hey! First, I'd like to put out there that this IS in fact a mish-mash of yet MORE Supernatural and Danny Phantom crossovers. (You say WHAT?!) yes, okay, these two shows together have inspired me. sapphireswimming (yes, no caps) has also inspired me with her glorious The Cave of Carbannog SuperPhantom ideas. I'll run that by you again, just for insurance:**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8.**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapters 7 and 8. **

**Okay, I'm done, don't worry. Just, you know, a little credit for the person, story, and chapters above for ze wonderful ideas. The following is idea A on chapter two, for any of you guys who want to check it out. I'll be having a party. with these ideas.**

**I ALSO DON'T OWN ANY OF THE RECOGNIZABLE FOLLOWING IDEAS, PERSONS, PLACES, THINGS, OR ANY OTHER VARIATION OF A NOUN YOU CAN COME UP WITH. SOME THINGS I DO NOT OWN ARE INCLUDED IN THE FOLLOWING LIST, BUT THE THINGS I DON'T OWN ARE NOT LIMITED TO THIS LIST. DANNY PHANTOM, SUPERNATURAL, AMITY PARK, NASTY BURGER, ANY CHARACTER, THE IDEA OF FUDGE, A BLACK 1967 CHEVY IMPALA ( :(:(:( ).**

**WARNING: Tucker is OOC.**

**Okay, ENJOY the story then.**

Danny found that non-horror movies were a lot more entertaining when watched upside down, especially when he was allowed to use his powers to get in such a position. Mom and Dad were away on a one-week ghost-hunting convention to which Jazz had _somehow_ convinced them they they could handle themselves for a week, especially since they didn't have to get to school that week, and that it would teach Danny responsibility and show that they could handle themselves in the outside world and all that nonsense. Danny swore she had some sort of magic persuasive power, but he didn't really care too much at the moment.

"You're floating in the way!" Sam protested, and Danny shifted his weight so he floated out of her line of view, so she could see the TV again. Sam and Tucker were laying upside down on the couch, the middle cousin left incase Danny wanted to stop floating aimlessly and anchor himself. So far he hadn't wanted to.

"Remind me what you three are doing again?" Jazz wondered, raising an eyebrow at the three upside-down teens who simultaneously reached down (or up) for the popcorn and shoved it in their mouths.

"There's a challenge going around school, exclusively for Sophomores," Danny began. "You have to watch the entire movie _Sunrise Angel_ without barfing, running away, ever once pausing for a break from the movie, and having the sound turned up loud enough so you hear it the entire time."

"And you have to video tape yourself doing it," Sam added. "So they know its authentic."

"Uhh…" Jazz trailing off, looking at her brothers glowing form. "And they're not going to think its a bit suspicious that you guys watched it with Danny Phantom?"

"The challenge ended a dozen or so days ago," the only girl other than Jazz informed the red head. "Nobody could do it. We wanted to see if the movie was really that bad."

"And is it?" Jazz wondered, but her mind was on another question.

"Oh yeah," Tucker confirmed. "It's pure garbage. Zombie Teacher III was better than this, and the effects were _horrible_ in that."

"So why are you watching it upside down?" Jazz finally popped the question that had been nagging since she saw the three teens in the living room.

"It's better this way," her brother replied.

"Yep," Sam confirmed. Tucker made a noise of agreement as well. "Their eyebrows do really funny and expressive things, and watching it upside down really exaggerates that to the point of hilarity, and even though the script is _horrible_ and the blocking is _crap_, everything if freaking hilarious when you're watching it upside down."

"I see," Jazz said, grabbing an apple from the kitchen and taking bite. "Mind if I join you?"

"Really?" Tucker wondered, turning his head towards Jazz. "You don't seem like you'd be in the mood for this kind of thing."

"I'm not going to be watching it upside down," Jazz explained. "You guys look low on popcorn. Do you want me to make some more?"

"Yes please!" all three teenagers chimed in unison.

"That'd make you an awesome older sister, Jazz," Danny added.

"I always like to be awesome," Jazz replied, and went over to the cabinet, grabbing a bag of microwavable popcorn and tearing the plastic wrap off. She popped it in the microwave and pressed the popcorn button, tossing the plastic in the "Fenton Waste Disposal", which was really just a hole in the wall which led to a dumpster out back which Danny and Jazz used to get rid of toxic food and demon wieners.

The popcorn began popping, audible "pop" sounds permeating the kitchen. "You _are_ awesome," Danny said from his vantage point floating upside down above the floor. "Let's see if I can get the bowl to you."

"I thought you weren't supposed to look away," Jazz pointed out, tone curious.

"I'm not looking away," Danny replied, and Jazz felt a gasp pass her lips as the now empty popcorn bowl trembled without anybody touching it, and then wrenched itself into the air and off the floor, nearly hitting the ceiling before it abruptly stopped. Without it in constant motion, and getting over her initial shock, Jazz could see the bowl glowing very lightly as it slowly wavered its way back down and shakily towards her.

"Telekinesis?" she wondered, plucking the bowl out of the air just as it was about to spill un-popped popcorn kernels all over the floor. The bowl quit glowing.

"You bet!" Danny chimed happily. "Which is why its very important I don't get angry this week, because objects could start flying. I think its a good thing Mom and Dad are gone and its spring break. Perfect circumstances."

"What good timing for your power to come in," Jazz observed casually.

"It's time I got a lucky break for once," Danny defended. The microwave went off, saving them from further argument.

"Dude, you _never _get a lucky break," Tucker laughed, and Danny floated backwards just to shoot him a sideways glare while still keeping his eyes on the movie.

"Hey Tuck?" Danny whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah?" his best friend wondered naively. Jazz saw Sam roll her eyes and smile.

"STOP JINXING IT!" Danny screamed in Tucker's ear, so loud and "surprising" that Tucker yelped and fell off the couch, landing on his head. Danny and Sam chuckled loudly, while Jazz hid a giggle behind her hand.

Jazz brought the once again full popcorn bowl over to the center of teenagers, setting where it had been before and climbing onto the middle spot of the couch, tucking her feet up criss-cross style so they didn't get in the bowl. She reached a hand down and grabbed a handful of the movie treat, picking each piece form the hand one by one and popping them in her mouth.

_"Oh, Eric!"_ The blonde girl put her hand to her heart and swooned dramatically.

_"Oh, Jessica!"_ the dark haired boy on the screen exclaimed, running a coarse hand through the blonde's hair.

_"Eric, I can't bear for us to be apart again!" _The blonde girl cooed, but this time Sam's voice joined hers, but in a purposely high-pitched tone which was obviously meant for mocking.

_"I know,"_ Both Danny and Tucker's voices joined Eric's as he spoke on screen. _"Every moment I'm not with you, my heart aches. But rest assured, Jessica, I will always be with you. You're my beautiful," _Sam's voice joined the two boys. _"Sunset Angel!" _they all cried out together, then burst out laughing.

"Woah!" Jazz noted. "Have you guys seen that part before?"

"Yes!" all three exclaimed together.

"This is our first time through," Sam explained to Jazz. "But this _exact_ scene has _literally_ played, like, five times between the different characters. It was like, Cindy and Mark, and then Isabella and Jacob-"

"Ja_son,"_ Tucker interrupted.

"Whatever!" Sam said, rolling her eyes. "You get the point. I don't even know how Tucker remembered that."

"I have a very avid memory!" Tucker defended.

"I don't think avid is the word you were looking for there," Danny informed him.

"Shut up, Danny. Nobody likes you," Tucker said, through it was a mostly joking way.

"OH!" Danny exclaimed, pretending to be offended, though he was aware that Tucker was joking. "I see how it is!" The doorbell rang. "If that's how it's going to be, you are hereby banned from watching _Sunset Angel_ until you answer the door."

"Good riddance to this monstrosity that calls itself a movie," Tucker muttered, flipping over and getting up, shuffling over to the door. Danny flipped right side up and transformed, floating down softly to land on the ground just as Tucker opened the door.

"Hello, we're Special Agents Louis and O'Connell. We're h-" The man was cut off abruptly by Tucker slamming the door in his face and turning round, pressing his back to the door with an expression of horror plastered on his face.

"How did they find me?" Tucker hissed, sounding utterly paranoid and crazy.

"Have you done smoothing illegal?" Sam and Danny wondered in unison, giving Tucker a cautious look. "Those guys were FBI," Danny continued. "Why'd you slam the door in their faces?"

"_They weren't FBI!_" Tucker hissed, a vicious look coming over his face. Danny visibly flinched backward, even thought he was feet away and was thrown into buildings several times on a daily basis. "They were LARPers."

"LARP?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like another word for throwing up. Were you part of a secret, underground, regurgitation organization, Tucker?"

"Eww!" Tucker scrunched up his face in disgust. "That's really gross, Danny."

Danny shrugged, getting up from the floor with the grace of a dancer and ease of a ghost. "I try. LARP?"

"Live Action Role Play," Tucker explained. "Sam got me into a series of books a while back-"

Danny gasped in mock-surprise. "Tucker? Reading? IMPOSSIBLE!"

"Shut up, you little smart-ass," Tucker told his best friend.

Danny grinned like an idiot. "I'm taller than you, though, so technically it'd be 'Shut up, you big smar-OW!" Danny was cut off by Sam kicking him in the shin, when he immediately doubles over and clutched the wounded area. Danny could take a ghost punch heading a couple hunted miles per hour, and ecto-beam of super-charged particles, but one kick from those boots would send him reeling. Danny was determined to steal those boots from Sam one day and hide them in a museum as weapons of mass destruction.

"Just continue, Tucker," Sam demanded as Danny once again straightened. Jazz tried to hide a giggle from her brother behind her hand, but failed. Danny gave her a glare, but his eyes were blue as he did so, which made Jazz assume he wasn't _too_ upset.

"So Sam got me into a series of books a while back, and at first I thought they were going to be horrible, but they were actually okay. We were on vacation last summer in Flordia, and I heard of a convention going on for all kinds of fantoms, including the _Danny Phantom _fandom." Danny glowered. still unhappy they'd started making comic books and graphic novels about him without his consent, and they weren't even paying him for rights. "So I went there," Tucker continued. "And I found this corner of the convention for the book series, called _Supernatural_ by Carver Edlund, and I went there, but everybody started ganging up on me because I wasn't in a costume from the books and I was carrying a Danny Phantom plushy, which was the most adorable thing so I had to get it for you, Danny, just to prove its existence and laugh at your expression, but one of the girls dressed as Ruby stole it because she liked you too, so yeah, but they _finally found me!_"

Danny blinked. "Anybody else here really confused to what's happening?"

"Tucker thinks those two FBI agents are secretly stalkers here to reprimand him for not wearing a costume at a convention," Sam translated, and Danny nodded, but then frowned again.

"Wait, there's a _plushy_ of me?" He turned back to Tucker, an incredulous and somewhat expression on his face. Jazz quietly noticed that a lamp on a nearby table was beginning to glow and walked over to set a hand atop it.

Just then, the door exploded inward upon itself, nearly flying off its hinges, and all four teens' heads whipped towards the front door, to where the two men were standing there with serious expressions on their faces.

"Great, Tucker," Sam said. "Now you're going to get us all arrested." She turned to the two men. "Excuse me, but do you two have a warrant to kick that door in?"

The two men looked confused, glancing around and seeing the group of teenagers. The only slightly abnormal sight was the red-headed girl leaning her weight on a fancy lamp.

The taller of the two turned to Tucker. **(BAM! Do you ****_see_**** that alliteration? DO YOU SEE IT? Sorry for the random authors note, I just had to. Just skip over it with your eyes.)**"Why did you slam the door?"

"These guys are really serious!" Tucker exclaimed, backing away with wide eyes. Both of the men gave him confused and weirded out looks.

"Sorry," Jazz apologized, stepping forward and carefully removing her weight from the lamp, which she half expected to raise into the air and start clubbing people over the head, like Killer Lamp Mafia, but the lamp did nothing. "He's convinced you two are super-fans for some book series." If Jazz didn't know better, she'd say the two agents exchanged equally knowing and exasperated glances.

Recovering their composure, the taller of the two addressed Jazz, since she seemed the most composed and ready to talk, since Sam's goth appearance made her out to be not very forthright with information, and Danny was trying to convince Tucker to be less crazy. "Umm…sorry, about the door. We're here regarding the recent murder of-"

"I _TOLD _you!" Tucker hissed at Danny, and Danny quickly slammed a hand over his mouth.

"Calm, little rabid Tucker," he soothed. "Cal-OW! He _bit_ me!" Danny drew his hand back, shaking it and investigating the skin for teeth marks. There were faint ones to be found, and Danny scowled at Tucker. "Now I'm getting Tucker rabies."

"Look," Jazz said to the two FBI agents, having to shout over Danny and Tucker's quibbling. "Maybe we should go upstairs so I can answer all your questions while these two resolve their issues-"

"TUCKER is the one with ISSUES!" Danny shouted.

"HEY!" an offended Tucker screamed back. "I'm not crazy, either those two are LARPers, or there's been a magical interference and they've actually come to life…" Tucker trailed off, eyes growing wide, then grabbed Danny by the shoulders and screamed. "Danny, run, these two hunt and kill ghosts!"

"Tucker!" Danny complained. "You just got spit all over my face. I'm banning you from Coke for life. _What_ exactly scared you so much at that convention you turn into a crazy psychopathic ball of screaming?"

"Shut up," Tucker told Danny, and Danny grinned,

"There we go!" the raven-haired teen said with triumph.

Jazz sighed in exasperation, putting her palm to her forehead. "Why don't I go answer your questions in the kitchen while these three finish watching heir movie upside down?"

"I totally forgot about that!" Tucker gushed, and Danny's eyes widened. All three scrambled over to the couch and got in their upside down positions while Jazz and the two men watched.

Jazz sighed. "I need to talk to Mom about keeping the extra-energy ectoplasm away from the Coke. These three obviously have way to much energy in their systems, or at least Danny and Tucker."

The two brothers shot each other looks at the mention of ectoplasm.

**Again, please refer to above warning. Tucker is, was, OOC. Oops. More to come, possibly. UNTIL NEXT TIME.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's see...I should so be doing homework right now, but I thought I'd post something for you guys to feed on and read and REVIEW (hopefully) while I got started on writing my english essay because I hav issues, and maybe I can just get it done in one huge chunk of homeworkness.**

**Do do do, do do-do do. Do do do, do do-do do. Duh do do, duh do-do do. SEMI-CHARM KINDA LIFE! Sorry, song I'm listening to. Plus, I felt like it. SO...GO ON! That way=V. Follow the arrows. V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .V**

**Okay, I guess I'm done being silly.**

**This idea was inspired also by:**

**sapphireswimming, The Cave of Carbannog, Chapter 8, idea F. Go there for details.**

**Enough dilly-dallying. LET'S GO! ...and ENJOY!**

Dean, Sam, and Bobby were sitting around the worn, old, wobbly table drinking beer straight from Bobby's fridge when the phone on the wall labeled "Animal Rights" rang loudly. Bobby was on his feet and over to the wall quickly, and the two boys also got up and strained their ears to hear the conversation.

"Hello?" Bobby said in a formal yet complacent tone.

"Hello. Yes, this is Officer Lyle Moore of the Amity Park Police Station. I have three children here claiming that they got official permission from you to free the monkeys taking part in the cosmetics testing of Gracia Cosmetics and dispatch them to various zoos."

Sam and Dean blinked at each other and started having a silent argument on whether or not this was the right number.

"Yes," Bobby answered, and Sam smiled triumphantly. "I gave them permission."

"W-well," the man seemed surprised in the confirmation. "They didn't have any legal documentation s-so I assumed they were making the whole story up. If you could come down to the station and provide the legal documentation papers we'd be happy to let them out with all charges dropped."

"Well, I'm currently in Florida, fighting for the rights of the alligators in the Everglades, and I can't make it too Illinois without forfeiting my position, so I suggest you release them with the proof of this phone call and there won't be any trouble." Bobby's voice was cutting, sharp, intimidating, and both Sam and Dean could tell that the poor police officer on the other end of the line would agree immediately.

"W-well I'll have to t-talk to my chief," to his credit, the man did formulate a good reason. "But I'm sure we can make an exception since you're incapable of making it here. We'll call you if there's any p-problem with the legal forms."

"You do that," Bobby said, and promptly hung up. "That idjit," he muttered, taking a heavy swig of his beer but not sitting down yet.

"Uhh…Bobby," Sam began. "What was that about?"

Bobby was spared from answering because the same phone, "Animal Rights", rang, and Bobby picked up. "You idjit," he growled into the receiver.

"Love you too, Bobby," came the reply in what Sam and Dean made out to be an adolescent male's voice. "Sam and Tucker say thanks."

"Please don't tell me you involved your poor technology-loving best friend in that harebrained scheme as well," Bobby said in a rough voice.

The voice on the other end laughed. "You're obviously a different Bobby than I've dealt with in the past if you think _I_ involved _anybody_ in an animal rights scheme. No, this was all Sam, like most of the times before."

"How many times do you have to see behind bars, Danny?" Bobby asked in an annoyed, but endearing tone. 'I'm beginning to think you like the view."

"Not so much, but I'll see them as long as Sam makes me," was the response, accompanied by a yelp and a small chuckle. "She just tried to hit me. I am so lucky I spent that weekend with you or I'd have permanent indents of the bottom of her combat boots on my shins. Killing a…what was it?"

"_Killing?_" was a soft, almost indistinguishable, female voice called.

"A Sherbacth," Bobby replied. "Nasty things, but you've got some pretty good hunting skills my boy, came out unscathed."

"_Killing?_" came the same voice, and there were several murmurs on the other end that neither Sam nor Dean could make out as words.

'Okay, so apparently even bloodthirsty monsters have animal rights and I should be ashamed for killing anything and blah blah blah," the boy's voice came. "I just had to dodge yet another attempt to eternally damage my shin bon-OW! Sam!"

There was faint laughter on the other end, and then a yelp and a cry of what sounded like "Hey! I had two more payments on that! Danny!". Bobby shook his head slightly, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So anyway," the boy's voice continued. "I just called to say thanks, you know, for making sure I avoided yet another lecture from Jazz about 'responsibility' when I'm _taking_ responsibility for 'freeing innocent creatures from the horrible clutches of the corporate rule'. Hey! I'm getting better at dodging punches. That's three in four in just the last couple of minutes. Oh! Four in five!"

"_Danny!"_ came an enraged cry from over the line.

"And now I'm running from the ever-terrifying wrath of my girlfriend." There was a slight draw in of air. "But thanks for getting us out of that pinch, Bobby."

"I just wish you would learn to say no to that girl, Danny," Bobby advised, shaking his head back and forth sadly.

"I can say no to her anytime I want," Danny boasted. "It's her combat boots that are hard to decline, especially the brand new level of pain they bring. I can be dragged around a training obstacle course by a crazy old man determined to make sure I collapse of dehydration, be shoved into every school locker ever invented, and be thrown into walls by ghosts on a daily basis, but those combat boots," there was a sound of horror on the other end. "One day I'm going to sell them to a nuclear weapons facility so they see what a weapon of mass destruction really looks like."

"You take care of yourself, Danny," Bobby advised, and hung up the phone. He turned to the boys. "That was Danny Fenton," he answered before the question even entered the air.

"Fenton? Like the weapon-makers?" Sam questioned.

"Exactly like the weapon makers," Bobby answered. "He's their son, and seems to be a better hunter than both of them combined, and he hunts a lot more often than most would expect, but he somehow still manages to find time to be a regular kid and help his girlfriend with her animal rights activism. He's the whole reason I got myself an animal rights alias, because if I hadn't him, his girlfriend, and their best friend would probably have a lot of prison time on their hands."

"He sounds fun," Dean noted dryly.

Bobby shrugged. "He's a teenager."


	3. Chapter 3 (twoshot with 4)

**WOOT! Okay, saying that this is a TWOSHOT! A TWOSHOT! TWOSHOT! Just getting that out there. This chapter, and the next chapter after it, which will be posted soon, but you can read it anyway you want. 'Cept from the bottom up. That might be a little confusing.**

**Sam and Danny FRIENDLINESS! YAY!**

**ENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNJOY!**

Danny sat on the swing, his legs barely making contact with the earth as he ran back and forth to get just a little lift into the air. His eyes were focused on the two new kids he didn't recognize, both boys. New kids didn't really come to this park often, or at least not without parents. These two were special.

The older one sat on the bench casually, talking with a blonde girl who was smiling the whitest smile Danny had ever seen. The younger on was standing near the bench, fidgeting and glancing around everywhere, giving a few pieces of playground equipment longing looks. Danny could tell he wanted to play on the stuff, but he didn't get why he didn't.

Danny was alone today, since Jazz was at a friends house, talking about "sixth grade" things that Danny wouldn't understand, being a forth grader and all. Danny still wanted to know what they were talking about, but his Mom had told him that it really wasn't any of his business before she and Dad had drove him to the park to meet up with Tucker and his parents, providing a quick ruffle of his hair and a promise that they'd be back soon after patrolling the town for any hints of ectoplasm. 'Soon' could be perceived very differently by two different people, especially when Tucker ended up sick and Danny ended up alone.

The blonde girl smiled, leaned over, and gave the older newcomer boy a kiss on the cheek. Danny blushed and looked away from them, only for his eyes to catch on the youngest doing the same thing. As if sensing his gaze, the younger one looked up and locked his green-eyed stare one Danny's blue one.

Danny smiled brightly and waved to the younger one, who looked around his age. The younger one tilted his head, considered for a moment, grinned, and then waved back. Danny smiled even wider, and he saw the younger boy smile back.

Danny glanced around to tell Tucker about his new friend, but then realized the whole reason he'd made a new friends was because his old one wasn't here. He looked back to the boy and motioned with his arm for the younger one to come over and swing with him, because it was only natural to actually talk to your new friend, and the boy did seem like he wanted to swing.

The younger boy nodded and looked back to the older boy. The older boy looked up to him almost immediately, much to the blonde girl's annoyance, then looked to Danny. Danny felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny but tried not to show it, only fidgeting occasionally before the older boy turned back to the younger boy and told him something serious. Danny's new friend nodded quickly, sent a wayward glance towards Danny, turned back to the older boy and told him something, and then began walking towards Danny.

"Hi," Danny greeted the younger boy when he sat on the swing next to him. "My name's Danny."

"Sam," the boy said, smiling slightly. Danny grinned at him and ran across the ground, trying to get into the air again. Sam noticed, and tilted his head slightly, shaggy bangs flopping across his forehead. "It's eerier if you pump your legs," he advised Danny, and went on to demonstrate, shifting his weight the opposite direction as soon as he got to the peak of his swing.

After seeing Sam gain some air without even touching the ground, Danny tried to mimic him, and, with a little practice, got pretty high into the air. "Thanks!" he called to Sam over the roar of the whooshing wind in his ears. Jazz always told him that he needed to be polite, especially if they were people who hadn't met Mom and Dad yet, because they still expected normal courtesy, and if you overdid it a little, it would "make up for Mom and Dad's ridiculous passing over of the basic principles of society" whatever that meant.

Sam just nodded to Danny and kept pumping his legs, and Danny followed, trying to get a higher swing than Sam. Sam soon noticed and went at it even more ferociously, and soon each boy was trying to outdo the other, until the swings started getting too high and the chains started jumping in a pretty scary way, especially to Danny, who'd always been lighter than normal and the wind and bumps made it feel to him like he was going to get blown right off the swing.

Sam noticed his distress and slammed his feet down onto the ground, dust and dirt skidding up from the rut his sneakers made as they dragged across the terrain and slowed his path, successfully stopping his momentum and lowering his height. Danny mimicked him, but couldn't do it nearly as well. Sam stopped first, but Danny got there soon enough.

"Thanks for teaching me how to get that high!" Danny exclaimed, smiling at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "It's nothing."

Danny opened his mouth, but before his voice could enter the space, another's did. "Hey, Fent-loser," the voice sneered, and Danny immediately knew who it was. "Who's your new geek friend."

Danny gritted his teeth and swiveled on the swing to stare Dash down. The taller blonde boy towered above them both, especially since they were sitting down and he was purposefully drawing his height up a little my going up on his toes. A couple of his other friends stood a couple feet behind him, cocky smirks on their faces.

Dash turned his head a bit, his lip twitching upward in a triumphant smile, like he'd just won some nonexistent contest. "Yes?" he asked cheekily to Danny's infuriated expression.

"Go away, Dash," Danny muttered, glaring up at the taller boy. His fists curled around the metal chains of the swing, both for support and an outlet for anger.

"Not until you introduce me to your lame-o freak friend, Fenton," the other boy demanded. A couple members in his party crossed their arms to try and look tough. For Danny, it worked. For Sam, not even close.

"Leave him alone!" Danny tried to sound intimidating, but his voice held a tremor. A smirk spread across Dash's features.

He turned to Sam, arms crossing over his chest. "What's your name, loser boy?"

Sam didn't respond. He'd dealt with far more intimidating things than this mediocre playground bully. He didn't need to answer to this pompous, blonde jerk.

"You hear me?" Dash demanded after a moment, temper inflamed. "What are you, retarded?"

"Are you?" Sam replied finally, deciding on the tough angle, like Dean normally did when he dealt with stuff like this.

Dash took pause for a moment, confused that this kid was standing up to him, at least a little bit. "No," he growled after a bit.

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "It took you pretty long to answer that simple question."

A snarl formed on Dash's face, while an alarmed look was on Danny's. "Sam!" he hissed, and when the other boy looked to him, Danny rapidly shook his head back and forth, dragging a finger across his neck for emphasis. Sam ignored this obvious warning, knowing that he could probably take Dash with his eyes closed and one hand behind his back.

"You better listen to Fenton, nerd," Dash growled, and Sam noticed how Dash's insults needed a little work. "You don't mess with Dash Baxter!"

"I just did," Sam replied smartly. "Could you leave?" he asked Dash.

"Why you little-" Dash growled, and pounced towards Sam, evident on teaching him a lesson. Sam was well ready and prepared to dodge a hit and deliver one of his own, since it appeared he'd angered Dash to the point of actually trying to attack him, but he didn't have to, because the blow never fell. Instead of sending his fist towards Sam's face, Dash doubled over, and Sam was confused for a moment, before he railed what happened.

Danny stood with wide eyes over Dash's body, now on the ground, his foot still outstretched. Dash rolled around, clutching the area which had been struck and groaning. There were even a few tears leaking out of his eyes.

The boys in Dash's posse stared at Danny and Sam for a moment with their mouths and eyes wide open before running off and screaming, "Fenton kicked Dash in the nuts!" loudly.

"Dashiel!" a loud, obnoxious woman's vouch exclaimed, and they saw a tall woman with too much eyeshadow and too-high heels rushing over to them. Sam saw Dean strolling towards them too, eyes narrowed. Sam gulped, unsure what to do next.

The blonde woman looked up and Sam and Danny with a venomous look on her face. "What did you do to my precious angel, you little rats?" she hissed.

"Owww!" groaned Dash dramatically, and the blonde woman hugged Dash to her chest. Sam noted with disgust that the boy oriented his head so his face was very near the top of her shirt.

"You little monsters," the woman hissed again, glaring at Sam and Danny. "What did you do to him. What did you do to my precious Dashiel? You wretched l-"

"Whoa!" Dean arrived on the scene, interrupting the blonde woman, presumably Dash's mother, mid-sentence. "Let's not going throwing around names just yet." He addressed the blonde woman as if she were just another child, and Sam kinda felt like smiling at the thought. Then Dean turned to him. "Sammy, what happened?"

Sam ground his teeth, wishing Dean wouldn't call him Sammy in front of his new friend. Before he could utter a single word, the cry echoed around the playground again. "Fenton kicked Dash in the nuts!" was called, and it reached Dean's ears. Dean immediately picked up on the call, as did the blonde woman, and both focused their gazes on Danny, who shrunk under the attention.

"You horrible little child. You're just as bad as your moronic parents!" The blonde woman growled, and moisture shimmered at the edges of Danny's eyes. This time, Dean didn't interrupt her rant. Sam knew that Dean probably wouldn't let him see Danny for the rest of the time that they were here, and before he could stop himself, the words came out.

"It was me." The words seemed to fill every space in the playground, even though it was outdoors, but Sam only noticed three things. One, that Dash had stopped moaning and groaning and was looking up at him with genuine interest. Two, Danny was staring at with with an expression of awe and maybe a little worship mixed in. And three, Dean's disappointed and yet quizzical expression.

"I did it," Sam clarified, just in case nobody got it. He didn't meet Dean's gaze. He knew it would be disappointed, so instead he looked to Danny, and that made up for it. Because Danny was looking at him with bona-fide gratitude, a look that Sam rarely got from anyone, ever. It was always directed at his Dad or Dean. They did the cool stuff. Sam just did the research. But this time, he was on the receiving end.

"Come on," Dean growled, setting a hand on Sam's arm firmly. "We'll talk about this later." He started practically dragging Sam away, but not before Sam could catch the mouthed words "Thank you" formed from Danny's lips.

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Sam only saw Danny three more times after that, mostly because Dean and his Dad had him under careful watch for the rest of the time they were in Amity Park, and would drag him away as soon as they noticed him talking to anybody. _Especially_ Danny.

Still, Danny's 'thank you's always made Sam feel like it was worth it. Plus, it really had been his fault, so he would have decked Dash if Danny hadn't stepped in. It was only fair Sam take the blame. Plus, Dad and Dean didn't seem _too_ bothered, so it was better than Danny's parents being mad at Danny.

Sam really did regret it when he watched Amity Park disappear into an undefinable speck in the rearview mirror, not because that town had been extra-special, but because the friend he'd made there had been special. Especially since he'd even made a friend, despite everything and past circumstances and overprotective big brothers and stupid bullies. Danny still wanted to hang out with him for the two weeks before Dad and Dean had managed to dispatch the sucker in the woods outside the town.

Sam was also glad that, despite everything, he and Danny had managed to exchange full _real_ names and that he knew Danny's address. When he got out of the hunter lifestyle he could come back and reconnect with his old friend.

**I hope you LOVED IT! I dunno. I tried, but I don't know if I did very well. I also leaned far too heavily on the concept that, as little kids, we all think of acquaintances as close friends. At lest I did. I think I was a moronic little kid who is very lucky strangers never offered her candy. UNTILLLLL NEXT TIMEEEEEEEE!**


	4. Chapter 4 (twoshot with 3)

**PART TWO!**

**|E|N|J|O|Y|!|!|!|!|!|**

Sam leaned against the prison cell's wall, sitting next to his older brother on the bench that looking like it was about to snap in two it was so feeble. Sam half wanted to sit on it just to see if if would break and he could use the wood shards to pick the lock somehow, but even with both his and his brother's weight pressing down on the board, it stayed in one piece. Sam didn't know how.

The drip-drop sound of water leaking from the rancid toilet in the corner was nearly maddening, as was the ever-vigilant guard who watched them with wide hazel eyes. Sam had yet to see him blink, and wondered if the man even had eyelids to blink with.

He would have diverted his attention to the static-y, mute portable television set on a table that the guard could watch if he ever got tired of staring at them without blinking, except it was set on the news channel, and it just kept playing the same thing over again: the clip of he and Dean getting captured by the police, their mugshots and information, and over and over. That was the best Sam could gather with the TV being mute and the picture being distorted.

He would have told Dean that they needed to find a way out of this mess, except he assumed it was a given and the guard probably had good hearing too. Great hearing.

Sam was a little surprised that this was the best they had to hold nation-wide wanted criminals until somebody came to pick them up and fly them to a more secure place. I mean, a little town in Illinois wasn't expected to have the most secure holding cell ever, but Sam had admittedly expected something with less mildew.

Suddenly, a few clicking sounds came from where Sam and Dean knew the front entrance was. Only a few seconds later a loud clatter and bang followed. Sam assumed it was the government guys, here to take them away. He was loathe to admit it, but he didn't see a way out of this one.

Sam heard muffled voices, probably the government guys and the guards who'd been on the outside of the room chatting. He couldn't make out very many words, but soon enough one of the guards stuck his head in, an understandable nervous look on his face, but for some reason, it had an exaggerated look of awe and amazement on it. He sent Sam and Dean a curious look, eyes wide and excited, and then looked back to the never blinking guy.

"Ted," he sang excitedly. "You have to go see out visitor. I'll watch these guys."

The man who never blinked, newly identified as Ted, got up and left the room, leaving the other guy watching Sam and Dean. He had a happy, almost dopey grin plastered across his face, and Sam briefly wondered if he was drunk or stoned, but then he realized they'd never let anybody like that watch them, even for a little while before some government agency came to get them. Apparently it was some hot-shot, judging from the reaction.

There was an exclamation of surprise from the other room, probably Ted, and after a few minutes Ted came back into the room and looked at the other guy with a disbelieving expression on his face. "What…?"

The other guy shook his head. "I dunno, man, but I say we bring him in, just to make sure, and then…well, whatever he wants, right?"

Sam and Dean shot each other confused looks, and the guy besides Ted stumbled out of the room, and came back a minute later with three other people. The first two were normal, a policeman and a policewoman. The third…not so much.

Sam openly stared at the complete stranger, who stood comfortably amidst the cops, looking like he felt totally normal. He did, in a way, look mostly human, except for a few things.

He wore bright white combat boots, dark black jeans, a black shirt with a weird D, a white vest, and white fingerless gloves. He looked pretty tough, especially since, though he wasn't grotesquely bulky, he definitely had some muscle, and he wore confidence like an accessory. He was practically glowing with it. In fact, he _was_ glowing. His white hair flopped over his forehead, and yet somehow stopped just short enough so that it didn't obstruct a view of bright, neon, toxic eyes.

Sam's first instinct was to reach for a gun, but then he realized that he didn't have any weapons on him. Oh crap.

The man's eerie green eyes, which Sam could swear were shining light, drifted over both Sam and Dean carefully, but when they landed on Sam's face, a smile split the man's features. His glowing hand bushed white bangs out of his eyes casually and he tilted his head a bit, as if disbelieving and happy at the same time.

"Are these the men you were talking about, Phantom?" the guy who'd stumbled in and replaced Ted for a moment asked, voice shaky. "Phantom" nodded, still looking Sam and Dean over, and Sam had a feeling that the man recognized them in some way.

"You sure, Phantom?" the policewoman asked cautiously, and Phantom nodded again, stark white hair bouncing naturally.

"Yeah," Phantom said, and Sam started, because Phantom's voice had an echoey quality, and was kinda far off and very close at the same time. The soft smile on Phantom's face seemed almost familiar to Sam, but he was sure he'd remember somebody like Phantom. Dean didn't seem to recognize Phantom, but he did look confused. As confused as Sam looked, but twice as hostile.

"Sam and Dean _Winchester_!" the third male guard pushed, sending a nervous look to Sam and his brother.

"Yeah," Phantom repeated, nodding slowly like the guard was slow. "I know you guys think they're just criminals, but I know something you don't…" Yeah, Sam bet he did. "…and trust me, guys, these guys don't deserve federal prison."

Sam gulped, afraid that, whatever Phantom was, he was going to kill them right then and there. They didn't even know what kinda of creature they were dealing with, but apparently Phantom was pretty well respected, or at least by police officers. Phantom held out his hand to the only female police officer, turned his look from Sam and Dean to look at her. The took something from her belt, and Sam and Dean tensed, expecting Phantom to turn a gun on them, or a knife. They were thoroughly confused when instead, Phantom held up a set of keys, letting them see what he held before working on unlocking the cell.

Oh great, was Phantom going to try and strangle them with his bear hands? What did Sam and Dean do to offend him? Kill his family?

The cell door swung open, and both Sam and Dean stood tense, watching Phantom with static looks on their faces, determined to not go down without a fight. Phantom stood there for like three minutes, eyebrows slowly crinkling into a confused expression, before he finally made a huge show of stepping _backward_ even more than he already had and openly gesturing to the open cell door, for Sam and Dean to come through. They just stood there, a little confused.

Phantom finally risked a laugh, and it echoed just like his voice, but sounded completely human nonetheless, which confused the brothers. "You know," Phantom commented. "For two guys who have repeatedly 'died' to get out of prison, they're not too eager to escape." Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Come on. I'm not going to bite you. I'm setting you _free_."

Sam and Dean risked a glance to each other, knowing this had to be too good to be true, but after a minute or two, Dean stepped forward, as always, protecting his brother, and slowly passed Phantom and the police officers without getting his head ripped off. Sam flowed in suit, and Phantom closed the cell door, locked it, and tossed the keys back to the policewoman, clapping one hand on either of the brothers shoulders, even both were taller than him.

The police man that had replaced Ted for a short stint actually gave Sam and Dean back their guns and knives, and much to their surprise, Phantom didn't protest one bit. Not a single noise. Sam guessed he wasn't too concerned about them blowing his head off. That could either be good sign, or a very, very bad sign.

Phantom casually led them out of the building, not another single protest floating from the police peoples' lips until Sam, Dean, and Phantom were safely out of the building and awkwardly walking to the parking lot. In the dark of the night, Phantom's glow was even more distinguishable, lighting the area around them like a flashlight.

Dean suddenly stopped and turned a gun on Phantom, aiming it at Phantom's head. Phantom's green eyes widened slightly and he raised his hands almost immediately. He sent a quick glance back to the police station, but relaxed. "Don't worry," he reassured the brothers. "We can do this now. that can't see us. I'd advise against any warning shots to scare me, though. They'll hear and come catch you."

"What makes you think I won't put a bullet between your eyes on the first try?" Dean asked in a gruff, scary voice.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I thought you two were supposed to be famous hunters. Sam and Dean Winchester, the main gossip topic, besides me, around the Zone. Lot's of people beyond the Zaoian Wall seem to think that you killed them?"

Sam was taken aback, so he said the first think that came to mind. "Zaoian Wall?"

Phantom nodded. "The Wall that separates the normal part of the Zone from that other creepy part. Called…Purgatory?" Sam and Dean froze. "But to answer your question," Phantom continued, ignoring the total freeze up. "The bullet will go straight through me, at least if I want it to, so i suggest you putting the gun away before one of those police guys sees you. They probably won't act to kindly to you after that, and this whole thing will fail."

"Who are you?" Dean wondered, ignoring Phantom's advice. Phantom stuck out a hand, and both Sam and Dean tensed, but it was only to shake.

"Phantom. King of Ghosts," he introduced, winking. "Or at least I will be, once I die all the way. They don't listen to me too well right now."

"Die_ all the way_?" Sam pushed, confused.

Phantom waved his hand. "Long story. I'll explain once I've made sure you two are not going to be re-arrested right after you've been de-arrested. Now can you please put the gun away and cooperate with me long enough so I can drive you to wherever you stored your car? I _did_ just bail you out of a lifetime in prison, maybe even the death penalty."

"Dean," Sam pushed, not so much comfortable around Phantom as wanting to find out why he seemed so familiar before blowing his head apart. Dean paused for a moment, and then took the gun from it's rigid position aimed at Phantom's face and tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans.

'Good," Phantom proclaimed. "Come on." He strolled forward, and Sam and Dean sent a quick glance at each other before following. He weaved throughout he parking lot until finally coming across a sleek silver and black Saab Phoenix, which even Dean had to admit looked pretty awesome for a modern car. **(You'll want to look up silver saab phoenix in any search engine {Preferably Google} if you want to get a idea of what i'm talking about)**. Phantom motioned for the brothers to get in. "Either of you guys want to drive?"

They gave him quizzical looks. Phantom shrugged. "I don't know where you stashed your car, and I'm not the best at following directions. And, for some reason, I feel like to many questions will be flying for any directions to be said."

The brothers both nodded at each other, and Dean let Sam get in the drivers seat, since he was more oriented with more modern cars. Sam got in the passenger seat and Phantom was stuck in the back seat of his own car, but he didn't seem to mind that much.

It was only after a few minutes of awkward silence on the road when both brothers were comfortable Phantom wasn't going to make them crash. Sam let fly the question that had been bugging him since Phantom had first opened the cell. "Why'd you spring us?"

Phantom chuckled. "Hmm, well, let's see? Oh, gosh, now I can't remember now…Ooh yeah! You only stopped the freaking apocalypse, along with many other apocalypses that don't have 'the's in front of them. I thought it was the least I could do. Especially since Sam is an old friend."

Sam swiveled immediately to face him and glared at Phantom. "How do I know you?" he asked.

Phantom leaned back casually, seemingly totally relaxed. "You kinda lied for me and saved my ass not thirty miles from here, so when I learned you and Dean had been arrested, I thought, hey, I owe him, the hell with it. I also figured you'd need a ride, so I brought my sweet ride. The only thing I didn't plan for was you being a foot or so taller than me, Sasquatch."

"How do I know you?" Sam repeated again, but in a less threatening tone.

Phantom shrugged innocently. "After I died, kind of, I changed my last name to Phantom. But consider, we're in Illinois, I mentioned a thirty miles or less distance, and my name is _Danny_ Phantom. Think for a moment, _Sammy_."

Sam froze, eyes widening as his mind worked out the prospected. He nearly burst out laughing. "Danny?" Sam chuckled, almost getting over the fact that there was a glowing man in the backseat. "We were ten years old."

Danny shrugged. "It was a big deal back then, and I mean, I thought since you stopped the apocalypse for me, I may as well pay you back. My original attempt on paying you back was pulling Dean out of Purgatory when I heard he got sent there, but I couldn't find him, even the few times I _did_ manage to get past the wall, but it's good because he found his way out before I could pull him out, so instead I pulled you both out of prison."

Sam raised an eyebrow at the man in the back seat. "You're dead," he stated blankly.

Danny nodded, not seeming too down about it. "Kind of. And immortal at twenty-four, which is a nice age to freeze at. My tenth death day, and I just stopped aging. That was a bit of a surprise," Danny nodded, seemingly lost in a memory.

"_Kind of_?" Sam pushed.

"Kind of," Danny repeated. "I guess you could say I'm half dead, if you wanted to try and explain it. I prefer to think of myself as a living ghost, which is a contradiction, but there's really not much of an explanation otherwise. See, watch," Danny held up a finger. "And make sure you don't get blinded."

Suddenly, a bright white ring of light formed around Danny, and separated quickly, leaving what appeared to Sam as a normal twenty-four year old man with black hair, blue eyes, and a cocky smile. No glow, normal outfit. Nothing super weird. He looked average.

"See!" Danny proclaimed. "Half dead!" The rings came back, and the glowing, floating, white-haired, green-eyed version of Danny came back. "Just different colors, and EMF and Ghost Finders don't see me as well in human form. You probably want to know what the hell happened to make me half dead, but I'm not sure. My best answer is that I was electrocuted with ectoplasmic energy, so it only turned me half ghost, because the ectoplasm saved me, kinda. I don't really know, honestly." Danny shrugged.

There was a silent pause, and then Sam spoke up. "Well, thanks for getting us out at least."

Danny tilted his head. "You're not even going to _try_ and kill me? But you guys are hunters! You exterminate non-human things."

"You saved our asses back there," Sam replied. "But you step out of line, and we'll be back."

Danny laughed. "Save that threat until the end, when you guys have your car, and I'm about to drive away in my _sweet_ ride. We exchange phone numbers, talk a bit, I get in my car, and you imply a thinly veiled threat about being good." Danny held his hands up. "But don't worry, though. I've saved the world too, you know. NOt nearly as many times as you guys, but sometimes. And, I mean, if I die all the way, I'm the King of Ghosts, so I have to be good otherwise some rookie halfa will come kick my butt into a magical sarcophagus."

"What?" both Dean and Sam asked, confused.

Danny chuckled again. "Nothing," he muttered, shaking his head*****. There was a pause for a few miles. Then, "Do you guys mind if I fly alongside the car for a little while. I'm getting claustrophobic."

Sam and Dean tried to act like this was a perfectly normal question and each muttered something about not being able to stop Danny if he wanted to. Danny smiled and dove straight through the car ceiling and into the sky. Sam and Dean tried to act like this was normal too.

***I would just like to put out there, you should be glad I went over this and tried to edit, because I put "shaking his tongue" there, because I have a diseased, distracted mind.**

**MEH! Okay, UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


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